


Safe Harbors

by IronShiba (wegglebots)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Byleth doesn't understand feelings, Canon Compliant, Edeleth, F/F, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Fluff, I just want them to be happy, Post-Canon, Post-War, mostly happy stuff, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:59:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22926814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wegglebots/pseuds/IronShiba
Summary: “Oh Goddess,” Byleth says under her breath, her words heavy.“Hmm?” goes Edelgard, still half asleep.Byleth turns her head to look at the woman beside her, nestled among the bed sheets, bare skin just peeking out from underneath. The moonlight pouring in from the windows casts her in an almost ethereal glow. She stares long and hard at the woman, who begins to rub the sleep out of her eyes.“We’re married,” Byleth manages.“… Yes,” Edelgard answers, now suddenly quite awake. “We’ve been married for two years now.”orIt dawns on Byleth that the war is finally over. Two and a half years later.(It’s the simple things that move her heart. She’s so happy to finally feel like she’s found home.)
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg & My Unit | Byleth, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 77
Kudos: 702





	1. Baby steps

The war was over. The war had been over. For over half a year. Days of endless strife, tension, combat, all behind them. There, in the safety of the imperial palace, Byleth could let herself close her eyes, and try to look forward to whatever the future held.

She had dreams sometimes. Of the past. Of things that could have been that did not come to be. She dreams of a world where she chose the Blue Lions, of a world where she sided with the Church of Seiros, and of a world where she stood with the Golden Deer. But those were not her lifetimes. Those were not her decisions. At the end of those paths was Edelgard, standing defiantly against the tip of her blade.

It hurt Byleth to even think of it. To even see it in her mind’s eye. Edelgard, looking ruefully up at the professor she had so dearly loved. Byleth, arm raised and unforgiving.

After every one of those dreams, Byleth finds herself wandering the halls of the palace. Bare feet padding along against stone floors in the dead of night, fingers tracing along walls as the moonlight pours in through wide, open windows. She’d make her way to the gardens, unfazed by the curious glances of passing guards. She’d find the lake nestled in the southern edge of the property, a man-made spectacle made exactly to the empress’ liking.

Floorboards creaking underfoot, she’d make her way to the end of the dock and sit at the edge, feet dangling just above the water. Byleth would look to the sky, to the stars, to the clouds, to the moon.

Byleth knew that her dreams were just that – dreams. Yet even still, they weighed heavy on the heart that had only begun to beat two and a half years ago. She had promised Edelgard to stand by her side no matter what. To defend her and uphold her. Yet, she believed, there were worlds where she failed to hold those words true. And Byleth disliked being unable to keep a promise. Even more than that, she detested the very idea of hurting Edelgard.

Byleth would whisper, in reverent tones. To no one but the air. To no one but the Edelgard of her dreams, worn and weary and so, _so_ lonely.

“I’m sorry Edelgard.”

___________

It was one of those nights. Byleth sat still, the night air chilling her to her very bones. She whispers again, voice dripping with guilt, with sorrow, with longing.

“I’m sorry Edelgard.”

“Sorry for what, love?”

Byleth turns just fast enough to find Edelgard in the process of draping a warm blanket over Byleth’s tense shoulders. She stares wordlessly at her wife, surprised at how she’d managed to sneak up on her like that.

“You seem to be lost in your thoughts. I did not want to interrupt, but your sudden apology has me curious, I must admit.” Edelgard sits beside Byleth, lilac eyes regarding her wife with deep concern.

Byleth remains silent, pensive. She moves to share the blanket, draping it over Edelgard’s shoulders as well. Her wife moves closer to her, glad for the shared warmth.

“I hope you’re not about to admit that you’ve been having a torrid affair,” says Edelgard, half joking. Byleth chuckles lightly. It was such a rarity for Edelgard to crack any jokes. With a shake of the head, Byleth looks out to the lake sprawled out before them.

“Sometimes,” Byleth begins, “I have these dreams.”

Edelgard says nothing. Waits for Byleth to continue. Moonlight casts a dark shadow on Byleth’s features. She seems almost mournful, dark circles cast under her blue eyes.

“I dream of worlds where I did not choose to stand by your side. I fight in the war, like I did two years ago, but in those dreams I fought you.”

Byleth looks at Edelgard, her normally stoic features contorted with grief.

“In those dreams, I raised my blade _against_ you, El.”

An unpleasant feeling bubbles up in Byleth’s stomach. Like cold steel, pressed against her heart. Edelgard shifts beside her, seemingly deep in thought. She speaks up.

“How do you feel about these dreams?” Edelgard asks her wife, her tone as cool as she can manage. The same voice she uses to command a meeting room full of disgruntled nobles.

“I feel like they’re nightmares,” Byleth answers.

Edelgard inhales deeply. She was no stranger to nightmares. She leans back, looking up at the night sky. She closes her eyes, trying to drink in the coolness of the air, the stillness of the world around her.

“Do you remember that night, when I was still your student, when you had gifted me an armored teddy bear?” Edelgard smiles as she speaks, the memory tugging at the corners of her lips.

“I do.”

“I was having nightmares. Yet, there you were. In the middle of the night, hair disheveled and breathless, as if you had rolled out of bed in a hurry to find me.”

“I did roll out of bed and run towards your quarters.”

Edelgard laughs at her wife’s honesty.

“Of all things for you to have done, you gave me a teddy bear.”

“Are you about to gift me a teddy bear, El?”

Edelgard chuckles a little more, and tenderly holds Byleth’s hand in her own.

“No. But what I am saying is this – you were there, when I needed you most.” Edelgard looks into Byleth’s blue eyes. There was an intensity to how the emperor looked into her eyes. A fire, burning, relentless and unstoppable.

“You were there then, and you are here now. That’s all that matters to me.”

Byleth gasps silently. It dawns on her. She stares in awe at the emperor, her wife. Bathed in moonlight, almost glowing under the night sky. The most beautiful thing Byleth had ever seen, she decides.

The war had been over. For over two and a half years. She had married Edelgard two years ago. The things that could have been remain just that, fragments of a destiny unfulfilled. Byleth forged a world where she and Edelgard could stand together. A world where Edelgard could be happy. A world where she was never alone.

The realization hits Byleth hard. Like a million feelings all punching her in the chest all at once. There are too many dots to connect, and too few lines that Byleth could draw in that exact moment. Edelgard stares at Byleth expectantly, hoping for her wife to say something. Byleth seems to come to a stunning conclusion, and suddenly holds Edelgard’s shoulders, blanket discarded behind them.

“You never actually finished school,” Byleth finally says.

It would take Byleth a while to figure everything out. Baby steps.

___________

Byleth suddenly sits up in their spacious, comfortable bed, back straight and stiff, eyes wide with shock. As the sheets are flung off her, she feels the chilly night air on her naked skin. Edelgard shifts beside her, roused from her sleep.

“Oh Goddess,” Byleth says under her breath, her words heavy.

“Hmm?” goes Edelgard, still half asleep.

Byleth turns her head to look at the woman beside her, nestled among the bed sheets, bare skin just peeking out from underneath. The moonlight pouring in from the windows casts her in an almost ethereal glow. She stares long and hard at the woman, who begins to rub the sleep out of her eyes.

“We’re _married_ ,” Byleth manages.

“… Yes,” Edelgard answers, now suddenly quite awake. “We’ve been married for two years now.”

“We just had _sex_ ,” says Byleth.

The tips of Edelgard’s ears go beet red, a stark contrast on her silvery skin.

“… Yes,” she says again, clearing her throat. “As married couples tend to do, I believe.”

“You were _my student_ ,” says Byleth, turning to face Edelgard entirely. She buries her burning face into her hands.

“Yes I was, _my teacher_ ,” answers Edelgard, sitting up, a playful lilt to how she says the nickname she had given her former professor. The sheets slide off of Edelgard’s body, revealing her bare form. Byleth finds herself peeking at her naked wife. Feels all the blood rush to her cheeks. She buries her face deeper into her hands.

“Oh Goddess,” Byleth says again, more desperate this time. Edelgard tilts her head to the side, confused.

“Are you okay my love? Shall I summon a healer?”

“I _married a former student_.”

“Um, yes. You did.”

Byleth raises her face abruptly. Her eyes shine with a wild realization. Like the truth of the universe had suddenly dawned on her.

“ _I’ve gone to your room in the middle of the night to gift you an armored teddy bear.”_ Byleth says, voice dripping with incredulity. She resumes burying her face into her hands, groaning with an embarrassment that seems to shake the former mercenary to her very core.

“ _I can’t believe I did that to a former student,”_ Byleth says, willing the earth to swallow her whole.

Edelgard gapes at her wife, mouth slightly ajar. She blinks a few times, unable to comprehend what is happening. She clears her throat again.

“Well to be perfectly clear,” she finally says, voice strained, “I’m fairly certain that gifting a student a teddy bear isn’t even remotely the same as actually sleeping with them.”

__________

Byleth casts her line, hook and bait bobbing gently on the lake’s surface. The professor watches, patiently, like she always does, waiting for any fish to nibble. She can almost sense them. The fish. Lurking in the deep. Byleth liked to believe that through sheer instinct alone, she could gauge how big the fish nibbling at the bait were.

It was early in the afternoon, the sun bright overhead. Clouds crawled lazily across the sky. Byleth continued to watch the lake, her expression as stoic and calm as the water’s surface.

Her focus is broken as she hears the distant voice of the emperor, engaged in a conversation with someone. Byleth turns to look.

There, just stepping out onto the garden, was Edelgard. Beside her was Hubert. Perhaps they were scheming, Byleth thought. They usually spent their early afternoons scheming about things. After all these years, and even after the war that they had won, those two still found things to scheme about. Byleth found it endearing.

The professor continues to watch the two, fishing momentarily forgotten. The line begins to tug, but Byleth doesn’t seem to notice. The sun is glinting off of the emperor’s crown, and it reminds Byleth of the way the world looks at sunrise. Beautiful. Calming.

An odd feeling washes over Byleth. She could swear she could see the twinkle in her wife’s eyes even if she was standing about thirty feet away with a fishing pole in her hands. Her heart lurches. A thumping in her rib cage that makes Byleth feel like her lungs don’t fit in her chest anymore. Her breath hitches, and suddenly a thought comes into Byleth’s mind, loud and screaming and very much there.

As if by instinct, Byleth throws her fishing rod to the side. It gets dragged into the water by a fish that had gotten hooked. The former mercenary doesn’t even notice. Instead, Byleth runs down the dock, towards her wife, sprinting at full speed.

Edelgard and Hubert freeze mid sentence, watching as they’re suddenly rushed by their former professor.

Byleth grabs Edelgard’s hands. Edelgard stares at her wife, wide eyed.

“ _El, you’re the emperor of all of Fodlan.”_ Byleth declares, as if it had just happened.

“I… I am, Byleth. I am the emperor of Fodlan.”

“ _I married you_ ,” Byleth gasps.

“Yes, love. We got married. You are the empress of Fodlan.”

Sighing, Hubert quips in.

“It would appear that your wife is experiencing some kind of mental breakdown, your majesty. Shall I summon a healer?”

Edelgard squeezes Byleth’s hands in her own. With a shake of her head, she answers.

“That will be quite unnecessary, Hubert.” Edelgard smiles softly at her wife. “The empress just never ceases to surprise me.”

Hubert loudly sighs.

“I’m taking this as a sign to take my leave then,” he says, bowing, “I will be seeing you both later then. When you’re done with whatever this is. Your majesties.”

__________

It was true that Fodlan had undergone an intense and drastic change over the years. Yet even then, there were still somehow days that weren’t as busy as the others. While Byleth did enjoy helping the emperor carve out a new world, she did still enjoy her gardening and fishing.

Byleth strides along one of the palace’s hallways, bucket of gardening supplies swaying along with her every step. She silently hums a song, one she remembers her late father singing. The sun is setting, the last of the golden rays spilling through open windows.

The former mercenary stops by her wife’s office, to check on her. The door, she finds, is slightly ajar. She stands at the doorway, hand raised to knock on the door, watching Edelgard as she writes on a document. Instead of knocking, Byleth finds herself just watching Edelgard work.

There was a deftness to her wife’s movements. Clear, concise. Each stroke of handwriting seemed to be heavy with intent. With determination. With sheer willpower. Framed by the light of the setting sun, Edelgard’s pale skin and snowy white hair seemed kissed with fire. It was a wonder to watch, Byleth thought.

Byleth feels her insides go warm. The same way she does when she eats a delicious pastry, or when she drinks fine tea. She can’t fully explain it, but she decides she wants to keep watching Edelgard work, as if drinking in the view before her.

Edelgard continues to scribble away at her parchment, the sound of her quill scratching against paper filling the otherwise silent chamber. Without looking up, she speaks.

“Can I help you love? You’ve been standing there, staring at me.”

Byleth feels her insides churn. Not in a way that hurt, but in a soft way. A warm way. A way that makes her burn with familiarity and adoration and longing, all at once. She feels like she does when she wakes from a pleasant afternoon nap. The way she does when she falls into bed after a long day’s work. She’s not good with putting words to what she felt, but she knew what these feelings are.

“I love you, El.” Byleth says, softly.

Edelgard immediately stops writing. Looks up to see Byleth smiling in that way she only ever does for her wife. A warmth spreads throughout the emperor’s chest, and she finds herself smiling brightly as well.

“I love you too, By.” Edelgard answers, just as softly.

Byleth’s smile grows into a grin.

“You married your former professor.”

“I did,” Edelgard says, chuckling. She puts down her quill. She stands, her chair pushed behind her. “You proposed to a former student, _my teacher_.” A light blush colors Edelgard’s cheeks as she walks around her desk, standing almost toe to toe with Byleth.

“You said yes,” Byleth says, still grinning. She’s blushing as well.

Edelgard gets on her tiptoes, planting a light kiss on her wife’s lips. “Yes, I did.” She kisses Byleth again. Byleth kisses her back.

“Now,” says Edelgard, “would you like to explain to me what has been bringing this on lately?”

Byleth mulls over the question. She doesn’t actually know. Not for sure. The feelings just seem to suddenly bubble up from the pit of her stomach, without reason, without prompting.

“I don’t know,” Byleth answers, “I just feel very warm when I look at you.”

The blush on Edelgard’s face deepens. She looks away, but reaches out to hold Byleth’s hands in her own.

“Goodness,” Edelgard whispers, “you say these things so simply, as if you were telling me what you had eaten for lunch.”

“Do you not like it?” Byleth asks.

Edelgard looks up at her wife. Lilac eyes staring intently into blue ones. There was that fire again, in Edelgard’s eyes, not one that bled with anger, but eyes that burned with a quiet passion. A determined passion. A love that burned silently all these years.

“Of course I like it,” Edelgard says, softly but firmly. “You make me so happy Byleth. I cannot even begin to express how happy you make me.”

Byleth stares into her wife’s eyes. The very same eyes that had been watching her the very first day that they had met.

“That’s good,” Byleth says simply. “You make me very happy too.”

Edelgard says nothing. She continues to stare into Byleth’s eyes, equal parts mesmerized and curious.

Byleth breaks the silence once more.

“So,” she says. “Do you want to have sex now?”

And Edelgard laughs, heartily. It reminds Byleth of the pleasant sound of twinkling wind chimes. It makes her grin even wider.

“Sure, my love,” Edelgard says, blushing furiously, hand raised to her lips in an attempt to stifle her laughter. “The documents can wait. It would appear that I have more _pressing_ matters to attend to.”


	2. Graduation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments! I promise I'll reply to each one the moment I have the time. I hope you enjoy this chapter! (My favorite Byleth will always be Dumb Jock Byleth)

Byleth looks out the window and stares at the bright blue sky as her former students chatter among themselves. They had convened to talk about the progress they were making. About their future plans. About the world they were steadily building.

It filled Byleth with a warmth that seemed to settle into every inch of her body. Like how she felt when she slept close to the fireplace. Warm. Content. _Proud_ , she realizes.

She looks across the room, across the faces of her many students. She smiles fondly. Beside her, Edelgard clasps her hands in her own. Squeezes. From the corner of Byleth’s eye, she could see Edelgard smiling at her wife.

“It just occurred to me,” Byleth says, suddenly speaking up. A hush falls over the room, all at attention at what their former professor was about to say. “That none of you actually finished school.”

An unpleasant buzzing feeling suddenly courses through her veins. She feels like her insides are being violently shaken, organs swirling around inside her torso.

Byleth realizes that she had been bolted with a double dose of Physic from Lysithea and Lindhardt from across the meeting room.

___________

“I must say,” Edelgard says, legs swinging at the end of the dock, “after all these years I still don’t quite understand the appeal of fishing.”

She looks up at Byleth, who continues to stare out at the lake. “But watching you like this is always quite nice.”

Byleth hums. As much as her wife was being cute, the former professor had priorities. Fish. There were fish and she needed to catch them. Edelgard doesn’t seem to mind Byleth’s silence. She continues to speak.

“A thought just occurred to me,” the emperor says, “I still don’t know how to swim.”

The sentiment strikes Byleth like a stray bolt of lightning. She immediately lets go of the fishing rod in her hands. She rises to her feet. The fishing rod splashes into the water and starts to sink past the surface. Edelgard gapes at the rod.

Byleth grins widely. An odd sensation seems to settle in her chest. Her skin prickles with electricity. She feels like she must act, immediately. She knows what she wants to do, and she must to it now, regardless of the consequences.

Edelgard continues to stare at the fishing rod that’s beginning to sink to the lake’s bottom. “Love, that’s probably the third fishing rod this week. I don’t know what has gotten into you, but you should really – _aaahh!_ ”

The emperor of Fodlan squeals as her wife effortlessly scoops her up into her arms. She instinctively wraps her arms around Byleth’s neck to steady herself.

“By? What’s happening? Why did you suddenly pick me up?”

Edelgard blushes furiously, her face as red as her cloak.

“I’ll show you how my father taught me how to swim,” Byleth declares.

Edelgard looks up at her wife, at the utterly mischievous twinkle in her eyes. As much as Edelgard would have liked to study this new expression that the former professor was making, she belatedly realizes what was about to happen.

“ _Byleth von Hresvelg,_ ” she says, voice loud and domineering, “ _as emperor of Fodlan and your wife I command you to leAAAAARRRGH!!_ ”

The rest of Edelgard’s command goes unheard as Byleth unceremoniously throws her wife into the lake, all the while laughing.

___________

“I’m sorry I threw you into the lake, Edelgard. I won’t do it again.”

“You best not do that again. I think I somehow know less about swimming than I did before.”

“Do you forgive me?”

“Ugh. I can’t stay mad at you. It’s like being upset at a small dog.”

“Small dog? Do you mean a puppy?”

“Do you want me to forgive you or not?”  
  


“Sorry. I want you to forgive me.”

“You are forgiven, my puppy.”

___________

The teacup clinks against the saucer as Dorothea gently sets it back down. As always, there was an inquisitive sparkle in the songstress’ eyes.

“So, _professor_ , pray tell, why summon me for a tea party?”

Byleth chuckles. “Am I not allowed to spend time with a dear friend?”

Dorothea grins. “Of course you are, but this is me we’re talking about here. I can tell that there’s something on your mind. So spill.” She winks, for effect.

“How can I make someone feel appreciated?” Byleth asks, stoic as ever. She takes a sip from her teacup.

Dorothea taps a finger on her chin. Mulls over a thought that Byleth cannot decipher.

“Oh I see,” she quips, “this is about Edie, isn’t it?”

Byleth smiles. Dorothea had always been so perceptive.

“Hmm,” says the songstress, “a massage would be nice. But maybe that’s just me. You could always write her a nice note celebrating her accomplishments. Or, you could perhaps even sing her a song.”

From across the table, Petra, who had been silent this whole time, nods enthusiastically.

“A massage!” she exclaims. “I would be liking to show you my appreciation, Dorothea. I am thankful for the suggestion.”

Dorothea reaches over to hold Petra’s hand. A warm, loving smile crosses her features. Byleth sees this unfold, and nods as well. A massage seemed promising.

“My students have all gone off and gotten married,” Byleth says, wistful. “ _I’ve_ gone off and gotten married.”

Dorothea frowns. “Professor, maybe you should have Lindhardt check on you sometime. Just to, you know, be on the safe side.” Petra nods in agreement.

___________

Byleth kneads into the warm flesh of Edelgard’s bare back. Edelgard is lying face down on their bed. Byleth straddles her, bent over to give the emperor a massage. Her wife’s skin was soft, yes, but everything beneath it was hard. Like rocks. Byleth felt like she was massaging rocks.

The former mercenary grunts as she tries to put more weight into her movements. Edelgard hums, relaxing a little bit. Now Byleth feels like she’s massaging moss-covered rocks.

Byleth was beginning to regret offering to massage her wife. Her hands were beginning to ache. She stops and looks at her open hands, tries to shake the soreness out of them. In the candlelight, she inspects her hands a little closer.

Calloused. Her hands were rough and heavy. The hands of a tired mercenary. The hands of someone who had taken countless lives without much thought. Byleth feels the beginnings of unpleasant feelings starting to take hold of her, so she shakes her head. Wills the thoughts away, presses down onto her wife’s back as if pressing the thoughts themselves down.

In the candlelight, she sees the many scars that mar Edelgard’s skin. Byleth forgets all about the massage. She begins to trace lines on Edelgard’s back. Drawing softly across each scar. Edelgard hums again.

“This is quite the odd massage, love,” she says, voice muffled.

“The world has been so cruel to you,” answers Byleth, without thinking. Her wife’s muscles were taut. Tense. They carried the weight of the world upon them. The realization strikes Byleth hard. Had Edelgard ever received a massage before? Byleth knew that her wife was conservative, that she did not want others to see the many scars that marked her. All this time, Edelgard carried her burdens without complaint.

Byleth’s insides hurt. Like she had swallowed burning coals. There was a silent rage that seemed to simmer within her. That seemed to make her eyes sting.

Edelgard shifts, twisting her entire body so that she faced her wife. Byleth adjusted slightly, but retained her position on top of her wife.

The emperor reaches up, dragging a thumb across Byleth’s cheek to wipe away a tear. Byleth realizes that she was crying. Surprised, she takes Edelgard’s hand, presses it into her cheek.

“Why are you crying, By?” Edelgard asks, gently.

Byleth says nothing. She bends over. Kisses the scar on Edelgard’s chest. Kisses yet another. And another. Edelgard gently runs her hands down Byleth’s back.

“As long as I have you,” Edelgard says, softly, “I need nothing more.”

___________

“Come again, professor?” says Lindhardt, pausing from his medical examination long enough to ask.

“How do you know when you’re done with school?” Byleth calmly repeats, lying as still as a board on the examination table.

Lindhardt hums. He motions for Byleth to sit up again. She sits up.

“I suppose,” he says, calmly and slowly like he always does, “receiving a certificate of graduation is undeniable proof that one is ‘done with school.’” He throws air quotes around the phrase “done with school.”

“What is a certificate of graduation?”

An odd expression crosses Lindhardt’s face. It reminds Byleth of the way cats look when they’re deciding to approach you or simply resume napping.

“A certificate of graduation is just a fancy piece of paper saying you have completed your scholarly requirements and have officially finished your education.” He yawns.

“I see. Thank you Lindhardt.”

“I do hope I don’t come to regret telling you this.”

“Regret? How come?” Byleth asks, tilting her head.

“Oh nothing, professor,” he answers, with a dismissive wave of the hand. “We’re done with the examination. You’re fine. You’re just you.”

“What does that mean?”

“Exactly what I just said. Now please leave, I am tired.”

___________

Byleth scrawls away on the piece of parchment before her. She inspects her work, quite pleased with what she had managed to come up with. Lindhardt’s instructions were quite vague, Byleth thought, so the former mercenary decided to practice her best discretion and wrote what she thought would go on a “certificate of graduation.”

She gives her writing a final reading. Pleased, she folds it and tucks it away. Sighing deeply, she leans back into the chair. She wonders if Edelgard would feel appreciated with such a gesture.

Byleth closes her eyes. A memory comes bubbling up to the surface of her mind. A night, many years ago, at the goddess tower.

_The war was over, at last, and Byleth had called Edelgard to meet her. The war was over, and a ring burned in Byleth’s pocket._

_Byleth, as she usually did, came into the encounter with no particular plan in mind. “Give ring,” was the sole thought that echoed in her head. “Give ring,” her heart seemed to say, whether she ate, she trained, or she slept. “Give ring,” the one desire that kept her going through all the battles._

_Edelgard had seemed so happy to receive the ring. Byleth could not forget the waves of relief that had washed over her as she watched the emperor slide the ring onto her finger, so delicately, so slowly, as if time itself would shatter if she moved too quickly._

_Edelgard wore the ring on her left hand’s ring finger._

“ _I don’t mean to propose yet,” Byleth deadpanned._

_Edelgard chuckled. “Yet, huh?” she said, smiling wistfully. Before Byleth could elaborate, she continued._

“ _You are telling me that you will stand by my side, and continue to walk this path alongside me for the rest of our lives, correct?”_

_Byleth nodded._

“ _Then I don’t see how this is any different from a proposal,” Edelgard said, as she brought the ring up to her lips and gingerly kissed it._

_A warm blush spread across Byleth’s cheeks. She was stunned._

_Edelgard smiled, smugly. It was an expression that Byleth had never seen on Edelgard before, one that seemed to make the former mercenary’s insides twist and turn. Byleth decided that she wanted to see that expression every day for the rest of her life. So she smiled back at her fiance, and pulled her close to kiss her for the first time._

Byleth snaps back to reality. An uncomfortable feeling begins to settle in her gut. As she reminisces, thoughts of the war come floating back to her. The former mercenary did not regret any of the actions she had taken, yet all the same, the path she had walked was stained with blood.

She looks down at her hands. Opens and closes her fists. Calloused. Rough. Hands that wielded weapons. Hands that crushed lives. Did she truly deserve to be happy?

In the back of her mind, endless possibilities seem to stretch out before her. All the choices she had not taken. All the paths she had not walked down. Were her hands just as calloused down those roads? She thinks back. All those roads led down to the destruction of the Adrestian Empire. All those roads led to the destruction of Edelgard’s dreams. To the destruction of Edelgard herself.

Byleth closes her fists tight. The callouses were a small price to pay, she believed. Byleth made a promise. All that mattered was Edelgard.

___________

Byleth knocks on the door of her wife’s office. “El, it’s me,” she says.

“You may enter,” answers Edelgard, and when Byleth opens the door slowly, adds “how may I assist Byleth von Hresvelg this evening?”

Byleth smiles. Feels an odd rumble in the pit of her stomach. _Excitement_ , she thinks.

“I wanted you to feel appreciated for your hard work,” she says, simply. “So I thought long and hard and came up with this.”

Byleth slides a document onto the table.

Edelgard looks down, at the document now on her desk. Written in the somewhat messy scrawl of her former professor was the following:

> _Dear Edelgard von Hresvelg/Wife/Emperor of Fodlan,_
> 
> _Certificate of Graduation_
> 
> _Congratulations. This is undeniable proof that you are done with school. You have done a very good job._
> 
> _Signed,_
> 
> _Byleth von Hresvelg_

Edelgard blinks a few times.

“You actually put ‘wife’ before ‘emperor of Fodlan,’” she says, chuckling.

“You have to underline which title you want on your graduation certificate,” Byleth says, pointing to the line that went “ _Dear Edelgard von Hresvelg/Wife/Emperor of Fodlan._ ”

Edelgard picks up a quill, and without hesitation, carefully and deftly underlines all three.

“I am all of these things, By,” she says, “but if I may be so bold as to offer a correction, my teacher.”

She crosses out “wife,” and inserts it before her own name. The document now reads “ _Dear Wife/Edelgard von Hresvelg/Emperor of Fodlan._ ”

“I do believe that I am a wife to you before all these things.” Edelgard smiles smugly. A smile that Byleth recognizes from so long ago.

“With you,” Edelgard explains, “I am not the emperor, nor the heir of the von Hresvelg line. I am simply El, and I am yours.”

A surge of warmth overcomes Byleth. Blooming from her chest and going _thump, thump, thump_ in sync with the steady rhythm of her heart. She imagines vines, beautiful and green, sprouting and taking hold in between the gaps of her ribs. She feels her eyes water, as Edelgard regards her wife with the warmest smile Byleth had ever seen.

She reaches out, cups her wife’s face tenderly in her calloused, calloused hands, and kisses her. As softly as she had kissed her that first time in the goddess tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dedicate this to my fiance, who reads this fanfiction despite not even being part of this fandom. Thank you for liking all the things I write and making my ego fat. Happy anniversary. I love you.


	3. Safe Harbors

Receiving word of bandit groups forming in the outskirts of cities and towns was never good news. Edelgard was one to act quickly and swiftly, ensuring that any source of potential conflict was snipped at the bud as soon as it was discovered. The peace that Edelgard had forged was still young and delicate, and most of the Black Eagles feared that political enemies of the emperor were constantly waiting for any and all reasons to lash out at the new regime.

Luckily for the emperor, their minister of military affairs and good friend Caspar had proven to be a capable general. If Byleth was being completely honest, she was quite surprised. The boy had…well, grades that left much to be desired, as the former professor recalled. He loved to fight, yes, but books were never in his wheelhouse and being a minister of military affairs required a lot more desk work than it did combat.

Caspar had met, in private, with the emperor and her empress. Hubert was unavailable at the emperor’s orders. She had actually gone to the length to command the overworked man to go on a holiday and spend time with his husband. There was no real need to have him there, after all. The meeting was going well. Caspar, with a bit of Hubert’s help, had quickly discovered the headquarters of a roving band of bandits and was already in the midst of sending out troops to quell the threat before it could get any worse.

Edelgard sat at her desk, both elbows on the surface, her fingers steepled in front of her face. Byleth and Caspar sat across her, as the general was wrapping up his report, arms animatedly waving around.

“Don’t worry your majesties, with a small battalion, we can totally crush those bandits and… we’ll…” Caspar trails off, staring at a point at the wall. Byleth follows his gaze.

There, upon the office wall, is Edelgard’s “graduation certificate,” framed in ornate, carved wood.

“What is that?” Caspar asks.

Edelgard says nothing, but a deep red flush instantly blooms on her cheeks. Byleth nods approvingly at the parchment.

“That’s proof that Edelgard is done with school,” Byleth says.

“But I thought none of us were done with school?” asks Caspar.

“Yes, but Edelgard is done now. That’s what the certificate is for.” Byleth nods again, as if the explanation was sufficient.

Caspar scratches absently at the back of his head. Edelgard remains seated, stiff as a statue, blushing furiously.

“You wrote that, profe – your majesty?”

“Yes, I did Caspar.”

An odd expression seems to cross over his features. He continues to rub at the back of his head. He looks down, at the floor, and says nothing. Byleth studies him, expression mostly blank. She tries to figure out what’s going on here. Over the years, she had gotten increasingly better at reading her wife’s expressions, but she hadn’t recently studied Caspar’s expressions. Byleth tilts her head, the gears in her head slowly clicking into place.

“Do you perhaps,” Byleth begins, “want to be done with school too?”

Caspar looks startled. “I-I mean, be-being done with s-school would be nice,” he stammers. Byleth hums. That wasn’t it, it seemed.

“Do you want to receive a certificate too?” Byleth asks.

A light blush dusts Caspar’s cheeks. He begins to restlessly shift his weight from one leg to the other. That was it, Byleth decides.

“That would…that would be nice,” Caspar manages, his voice small.

From the corner of Byleth’s eye, she sees Edelgard shift, ever so slightly. A small furrow settles on the emperor’s brow. She draws her lips a little tighter. Now this, Byleth thinks, is something she can read as easily as anything.

“Don’t be jealous,” Byleth says simply.

Edelgard balks. She opens her mouth, attempts to form words, and then closes it again. She blushes an even more furious shade of red.

“It’s okay,” Byleth continues. “Your certificate will always be the most special.”

Byleth reaches out and gingerly hold’s Edelgard’s hand. Caspar tries (and fails) to conceal a smile on his face.

Edelgard slowly closes her eyes, her face so red it looked painful.

“Yes,” is all Edelgard manages, her voice strained and stiff.

Byleth smiles at Caspar.

“It’s settled then!” she says proudly.

“Um, thanks, your majesties,” answers Caspar.

__________

It was another one of those nights for Byleth. Another dream, stretching out impossibly far in the reaches of her mind. As always, Byleth finds herself at the lakeside. She swings her legs over the wooden dock absently. The sky is clear, beautiful. The moon is full and almost yellow in hue.

Byleth looks at the lake’s surface. It’s still. Upon it’s surface the moon is reflected, almost like a shimmering mirror. The former mercenary closes her eyes. In her mind, she imagines a ship, drifting in the wide, open sea. She imagines herself standing at the deck, salty ocean breeze blowing against her cheeks. She imagines wood creaking under her feet, groaning with the push and pull of the waves. She imagines the dark sky before her. She imagines the sea around her.

Why Byleth could imagine such a vivid scene, she could not tell. Perhaps, she thinks, she had experienced it in a distant lifetime. What she knew for sure, was the feeling of immense loneliness that seemed to fill her lungs.

In her mind, her ship floated along, alone, impossibly small in the large expanse of water that almost seemed to engulf it. Byleth wonders where the ship was going. Where the ship had come from. What the ship hoped would happen.

In Byleth’s mind, she hopes that the ship somehow finds home.

The air felt thick, almost like breathing in the salt water itself. The ocean breeze seemed to curl around her, warm and heavy like a blanket.

Byleth opens her eyes, to realize that Edelgard had once again managed to sneak up on her, wrapping a thick blanket around her.

“You’re getting rusty, By,” Edelgard says affectionately, standing over her wife.

Byleth smiles warmly in response. “Maybe I should have classed you as an assassin instead, El.”

“Me? Goodness, I’m glad you didn’t try that. I’m quite certain that would have been a disaster.” Edelgard laughs, lightly. The sound seems to reverberate within Byleth. Wind chimes, she thinks, tinkling as they sway gently in a soft breeze.

In the back of Byleth’s mind, she imagines a ship guided toward harbor by the sound of distant chimes.

__________

“By, are you planning on just watching me write?” Edelgard asks, as she scribbles away on one of countless documents on her office desk. “While I do find this endearing, I will admit that I am feeling quite conscious of your intense gaze, my love.”

Byleth hums, her chin resting on the palm of her hand. She quite enjoyed watching her wife work. It filled her with a warmth that reminded Byleth of warm nights spent huddled around the soft glow of a campfire. She could almost swear she felt gentle heat radiating throughout her body.

“I like watching you work. It’s like watching a campfire.” Byleth says simply.

“Campfire, huh?” says Edelgard, her eyebrow raised, yet she does not take her eyes away from the task at hand.

Byleth searches her mind for more words to describe how she felt. She mulls over how difficult it is to think about so many words to describe feelings. Campfires. They were… warm. Warm… because… they were hot. Byleth hums again. Her thoughts were going nowhere. She tries again.

Campfires were places to… camp. Byleth feels like a gear in the back of her head moves into action. This is promising, she thinks. Camps were places to… cook caught fish. Byleth shakes her head. She tries to regain the last line of thinking once more. Camps were places to… rest. Better, she thinks. Rest happens after… a long day’s work. Also after sex. Sex. What was she trying to figure out again? Byleth forgets the rest of the thoughts. She remembers that sex is a thing that she can have with her wife. Sex is nice, Byleth thinks to herself.

“We’ve never had sex on your desk before,” Byleth deadpans.

Edelgard, caught off guard, draws a deep, heavy line across her document. Across the heavy wooden desk. She draws the line so hard that at the end of her swing the quill comes flying out of her hand and clatters against a bookshelf on the far wall of her office.

The emperor clears her throat, eyes wide. “C-come again, love?”

“Sex. Here. On the desk.”

“O-oh. I-I mean… yeah. That’s an… astute? Observation?” Edelgard leans back in her seat, trying to regain her composure.

“Would you like to?” asks Byleth.

“Have sex on my desk?” Edelgard asks back.

“Yes. Would that be okay?”

“… Right now?” Edelgard clears her throat again.

“Are you opposed to it? I’d understand.”

“N-no! I mean,” Edelgard blushes furiously. “Yes. Let’s uh. Have sex on the desk now.”

They both stand. Byleth thinks, belatedly, that maybe she should have initiated the encounter differently. It was kind of awkward now.

Edelgard stands stiffly for a moment before she begins to gather the documents all over her table and stack them neatly. Byleth begins to help her as well.

“Is there any particular order that we should collect these documents?” Byleth asks.

“Oh I suppose it matters little. It can be dealt with later.” Edelgard answers.

The two begin to gather the documents in silence, forming a neat stack that they could easily set aside so they can finally have what was definitely spontaneous office sex.

After a few too many minutes of silence, Byleth sets the papers she had collected back down.

“Actually,” she says, “let’s just go to the bedroom. It feels awkward to keep going like this.”

“Oh thank goodness,” Edelgard says, “I thought it was just me that was feeling that way.”

__________

“Edelgard, when you became emperor of Fodlan, did you change the money to put your face on it?”

It was a sudden question. Byleth wasn’t quite sure what drove her to ask Edelgard that, late in the evening as the two were preparing for bed. Edelgard was reading a book by the candlelight, and Byleth was lying on her back, staring idly at the ceiling of their shared room. The question had simply popped up in Byleth’s mind, and she decided it best to ask instead of mull it over. The emperor closes her book, sets it aside on a side table.

“By, do you know what the currency looks like nowadays?” Edelgard asks.

Byleth shakes her head, her hair messy and splayed out on the pillow.

“I suppose you’d find little need for currency when you’re such a pampered wife,” Edelgard says, chuckling.

It was true. Byleth had no need for money, living out her days in the comfort of the palace. Anything she needed, Edelgard would procure for her without hesitation. Byleth rarely needed things anyway. She may be the empress of Fodlan, but she was still Byleth, former professor and mercenary, a woman who didn’t go out of her way to get things that she didn’t desperately need. Any time she ventured out beyond the castle gates to visit the local marketplaces, vendors gladly gave her things free of charge. Byleth still kept a fat purse full of coin, but she had never actually needed to open it to spend in so many years.

Smiling, Edelgard slides out of bed, reaches into one of their dressers, and pulls out a leather pouch heavy with coin. She takes one out, a gold coin, and hands it to Byleth.

Byleth sits up in bed and receives the coin. It was heavy in her hand. On one side was the two-headed Adrestian eagle, wings spread out and majestic. It was an image familiar to Byleth. It had to be. It was emblazoned everywhere, banners, sheets, cloaks, hell, Byleth swears she has a pair of underwear with eagles that went right over each boob cup. That much was to be expected, Byleth thinks. If she was going to wear eagles over her breasts, it might as well be on the money too. She flips the coin over, expecting to see the profile of her wife, strong and imposing, immortalized in gold. What she sees, however, is something else.

It was Byleth’s own profile.

She stares at the metal, confused. Imprinted on the coin’s surface wasn’t her wife’s stunning features, or her iconic horned crown, but Byleth’s wild hair, her somewhat vacant expression. The image of the empress as she seems lost in thought.

“It’s…me,” Byleth whispers.

“Yes,” answers Edelgard. “It didn’t feel quite right to stamp my face on the currency. I felt that something more… _valuable_ was more better suited for such a thing.”

Byleth looks at her wife, a questioning look on her face. Edelgard’s smile widens.

“I suppose this is simply an incredibly roundabout way of saying that you are the most valuable thing in the world to me, By.” Edelgard reaches out, cups Byleth’s face with her hands. She lovingly squeezes Byleth’s cheeks before pulling away. Byleth’s face feels warm where her wife’s hands were. Edelgard pulls another coin out of her pouch. Holds it up between her fingers. Examines it closely.

“Strange, isn’t it?” Edelgard continues, “As the emperor of Fodlan, I felt a need to express to all of my people that you are my greatest treasure.”

Byleth turns the gold coin over in the palm of her hand. It was odd, tracing the stoic features of her own face. The metal glints in the candlelight, and in the back of her mind she imagines a lighthouse calling lost ships home.

She imagines a ship, a solitary ship, riding across the waves, guided by the beams of light spilling forth from the lighthouse’s top. She imagines the ship coasting into port, safe from the dangers of the wide, open sea. Safe, no longer lost, kept close by the harbors. Safe harbors.

Byleth gently closes her hands around the coin.

“A treasure,” she repeats. The words feel heavy as they spill forth from her lips. Edelgard regards her wife warmly.

“We are married,” the former mercenary says, softly.

“Yes, we are,” Edelgard says, closing her own hands over Byleth’s. The former mercenary looks down at the hands clasped over her own.

The pain of a past dripping with blood seems to fade away, ever so slightly. Dreams of worlds that were not hers grow distant. Her hands feel warm in her wife’s. Safe. She imagines that she was a ship sailing home after years and years of struggle. A ship finally coming home. A ship finally allowed to feel safe.

“I am home,” says Byleth, and she was.

__________

“Now,” says Edelgard, “ _please_ take good care of this fishing rod. In all the years I’ve known you it strikes me as odd that you’d suddenly be so careless with your fishing gear of all things.”

Edelgard hands Byleth a perfectly crafted fishing rod. Byleth runs her hands over it. It was almost too nice. The fishing rods she was used to were the ones similar to the ones she used back at the monastery. Those were old. Worn. They threatened to break with every bite of the fish. It was part of the fun, Byleth thought. Her skill would have to account for the durability of her tool, just like in real combat. She, the master of the fish pond, would manage to catch fish against all odds.

In contrast, the rod in Byleth’s hand was pristine. Immaculate, even. Byleth tried to bend it, simulating how it would bend with a fish on the line. The wood was supple, yet it felt secure. Durable. It would almost be too easy to catch fish with such an instrument. There would be no challenge, Byelth thought. She frowns.

“What’s wrong, my light?” Edelgard asks, concerned.

Saying nothing, Byleth turns to the nearest window. She raises her arm high, as if about to cast a line outside. She swings back, the beautiful rod glinting in the sunlight.

And she chucks the rod out the window.

The rod flies magnificently through the air. Spinning, the sun reflected off of its shiny, varnished surface perfectly. It lands on the cobble floor of the courtyard with an unceremonious clatter. It lay inert on the ground, no longer the perfect rod it was approximately ten seconds ago. Edelgard gapes at Byleth. Without turning to look at the emperor, Byleth shrugs. “It was too perfect,” she deadpans. “Perhaps a little damage will make it better.”

When Edelgard says nothing, Byleth turns to face her wife.

There are few things in the world that Byleth is afraid of. One, was her wife’s cooking. And two, was her wife’s wrath. As she watched a storm brew over the features of Edelgard, her wife and emperor of Fodlan, Byleth felt the very hairs on the back of her neck raise.

“I will go pick it up. Now. And then I will go off to war. I will return ten years later. Goodbye.” Byleth says, quickly, turning to run away before her wife could even say anything.

__________

The battlefield spread out before Byleth was a dangerous one. The former mercenary was no stranger to dire odds, but the woman had to swallow hard at the prospect before her.

In front of her, the dining table. Upon them, an assortment of dishes that she struggled to recognize. There were some dishes that had beef. Some desserts. Some… fish dishes? Byleth couldn’t tell, but there were dangerous-looking, pointy bits sticking out of those. At the end of the table, Edelgard. She was looking at Byleth, wide eyed and expectant. The formation before the former mercenary was ready to strike. A relentless battalion that threatened her stomach. Byleth swallows again. This looked like a losing battle.

“Well?” says Edelgard, expectantly, “Will you please try it out? I have been practicing lately.”

Byleth’s hand trembled, spoon in hand. An icy feeling coursed through her veins. Her muscles twitched, her entire body alert and ready to flee at any given moment. _Fear_ , Byleth thinks, this is fear.

She tries to best to stifle the shaking of her hand as she scoops into what appeared to be a beef dish. It looked like brown mush that had sprigs of spices(?) stuck into them. The smell wafting from it was not promising in any way. It reminded Byleth of the smell of sweaty clothes. The thumping of her heart was deafening. The world almost seemed to spin around her. Edelgard, watching her wife with intense focus, seemed to lean into the table in anticipation.

A single bead of cold, cold sweat runs down Byleth’s back. She forces her mouth open. Leads the shaking spoon into her mouth. The metal clatters slightly against her teeth. She bites. She chews. She swallows. The food(?) in Byleth’s mouth feels rubbery and difficult to chew, slimy but also somehow dry, and very, _very_ salty.

“ _Well?_ ” asks Edelgard, leaning very close into the table, both her palms set on the surface.

Byleth blinks a few times. What were her options here? Say, “Yes wow, delicious,” in the hopes that Edelgard would finally feel content? Say, “No, oh goddess I’m going to throw up,” which was the honest thought burning at the back of her head? Running away seemed more appealing. Byleth knew when retreat was the safest option.

Edelgard didn’t look like she was even blinking anymore. Byleth suddenly feels small under the heavy, intense gaze of her wife. As much as Edelgard was gifted with a passion for learning and improvement, the emperor was also cursed with the immense need to be great at everything she tried.

Byleth set the spoon down. She clears her throat. She feels very, very dizzy suddenly. Her stomach lurches in an incredibly unpleasant way.

“It’s… like I ate a mouthful of salt,” Byleth manages, before the world around her suddenly goes very, very dark.

_Oh no,_ Byleth thinks belatedly, as the world fades into nothingness, _I can’t believe that after everything, my own wife’s cooking ends me._

__________

Byleth has a unique dilemma. She needs to write graduation certificates for her former students, yet she must ensure that Edelgard’s remained to be the most special. Byleth had promised her wife, after all. In theory, all graduation certificates probably had to be made equal. That was in theory. In reality, Byleth was no longer technically their professor and could be as biased as she wanted. Plus, the idea of having to write so many identical documents made her wrist hurt.

As Byleth ponders her problem, she suddenly recalls an old saying, one that she must have read in passing in one of the many books she had crammed to prepare herself to teach.

“Brevity is the soul of wit,” went the saying.

Byleth wasn’t sure how that was applicable in any way to her existing issue. The thought rises to the surface among her other thoughts. Perhaps, Byleth thinks, Sothis was still around in some part to give her some kind of guidance.

She decides that maybe less is more when it came to these matters.

__________

“It was too salty, wasn’t it? The beef stew.”

“Mhmm…”

“Maybe I should have added sugar to offset the saltiness? Or perhaps more carrots.”

“El, it’s the middle of the night. I would like to keep sleeping now.”

__________

It was unusual for Byleth to receive a handwritten note from her wife. It’s odd, she thinks, Byleth spends so much of her time just watching Edelgard work, yet rarely is ever the recipient of any of those letters. Byleth turns over the parchment in her hand, for the nth time. It reads, in simple, neat writing:

> _Meet me in the greenhouse at midnight_

Byleth looks up at Hubert, who had delivered the note personally. As usual, there seemed to be dark circles around the man’s eyes, and he seemed to regard Byleth with a heavy, almost threatening stare.

“This really came from Edelgard?” Byleth asks.

“No,” answers Hubert, expression unchanging, “I learned how to forge her majesty’s handwriting. It’s from me.”

“It’s not good to joke about committing crimes.”

“I apologize, your majesty.” Hubert bows slightly.

“You were kidding, right?” Byleth asks, concerned.

“No.”

“I will tell Edelgard about this.”

“By all means, please do, your majesty,” Hubert deadpans. “Maybe she’ll fire me and I can finally go home.”

Byleth says nothing. Hubert continues.

“You know, the other night, Ferdinand tried to stab me as I climbed into bed. He thought I was a thief. He forgot he had a husband, your majesty.”

The two stare at each other, in awkward silence.

“Please go home, Hubert,” Byleth finally says. Hubert bows.

“Of course I’m going home now.”

“Are you really?”

“No.”

__________

Byleth’s former students take their usual spots in the meeting room, each one confused as to the purpose of the sudden gathering. The former professor looks at all the faces around her. They all seemed calm, curious, a little on the side of lost. Except Caspar, who sat in his seat and seemed to be brimming with electric excitement. Lindhardt takes one look at him and shrugs, resigning himself to some unknown fate.

Edelgard, seated beside her wife, had an odd, somewhat distant look. Byleth smiles at her, knowingly. Edelgard seemed to look at the far wall, a gaze so piercing she must be counting ants on the territory’s border. Byleth pats Edelgard’s shoulder reassuringly.

“I know you’re embarrassed, El, but I assure you that graduation is part of life.”

The emperor stiffens, like a statue. She says nothing and slowly closes her eyes. Byleth continues on, unhindered.

“I’m sure you are all wondering why I have called you all here today,” Byleth says. A hush falls over the room.

“We are here because you all, except Edelgard, have not finished school,” Byleth continues. “And as a former educator I feel like that’s probably a bad thing.”

“Excuse me, your majesty,” Manuela speaks up, hand raised. “Am I correct to assume that you don’t mean to include me in this?”

“Oh no,” Byleth answers, “you’re going to finish school today too, Manuela.”

“B-but your majesty, you can’t be serious. I was a fellow professor.”

“Did you finish school though?”

Manuela opens her mouth. Tries to speak. Says nothing. Closes her mouth again. She lowers her raised hand. Lindhardt stifles a chuckle and Dorothea slaps him on the shoulder.

“Well,” Manuela finally says, “where’s Hanneman?”

“I’m fairly certain he finished school a long time ago,” Byleth deadpans.

Manuela sputters, indignant. From her seat beside Byleth, Edelgard regards Manuela with a harsh, threatening glare. Byleth sees it, from the corner of her eye. Manuela visibly deflates.

“Okay,” she says.

Byleth was quite familiar with the way Edelgard had reacted. The emperor didn’t seem to ever want to talk about it, so the former professor never brought it up. She was certain it meant “give my wife what she wants this instant,” and frankly, Byleth found it sweet. It’s reassuring, thinks Byleth. It makes her feel like she really is the empress of Fodlan.

Clearing her throat, Byleth continues on, handing papers for the former students to pass to one another.

“I am distributing your graduation certificates. Please write your names on the blanks.”

Each of the Black Eagles looks down at the paper in their hands. It reads:

> _Dear _________,_
> 
> _Graduation_
> 
> _You have finished school. Good job._
> 
> _From,_
> 
> _Byleth_

Caspar excitedly writes his name down. The others follow suit. Manuela writes hers with a heavy sigh. Dorothea leans over toward Petra to explain what was going on.

“I don’t think I am understanding. This is unlike what I have been reading in your culture books,” Petra whispers.

“I know sweetie, but nothing is conventional when it comes to our dear professor.”

Another harsh glare, from Edelgard. Petra and Dorothea jump in their seats, and scramble to scrawl in their names.

When everyone finishes, Byleth beams. “Now you’re all done with school!” The room fills with awkward applause while Byleth hums proudly to herself. Edelgard claps the most enthusiastically.

__________

Midnight, at the greenhouse.

Moonlight pours in from above, seeping through the glass ceiling. Rows of flora and fauna seem to glow under the light. Byleth walks along the cobblestone floors, heels clacking loudly. She walks down one of the aisles. At the end stands Edelgard, staring up at the sky, her back turned to Byleth. Without turning, she speaks.

“It has been almost three years now By. Almost three years since the end of the war.”

Unpleasant thoughts bloom in the back of Byleth’s mind. Distant wars, distant dreams, distant ships. Lost, lost ships. Byleth shakes her head.

“I’m proud of what you’ve built,” Byleth says. She means it. Edelgard turns to face her wife, a small smile on her face.

“What _we_ built,” Edelgard corrects.

“I got your note,” says Byleth, waving the parchment in her hand.

“So you have.”

“We should let Hubert have another vacation. He seems sad.”

Edelgard chuckles a little. “I’ll have you know that it’s actually him that refuses to stop working.”

“I know,” says Byleth. She walks up close to Edelgard. “I just thought that maybe since I said it you would command him to do it.”

“Are you accusing me of being at my wife’s every beck and call?”

“Yes.”

Edelgard laughs, heartily. “You aren’t wrong, my light.”

“Was there anything you wanted to talk about?” Byleth asks.

Edelgard looks away, the smile on her face slightly smaller. “I’m a bit worried,” she says.

“About what?”

“Lately,” says Edelgard, “you seem wistful at times. You get up, in the middle of the night. You tell me of dreams. Of alternate lifetimes.”

“Why does this worry you?” Byleth asks. She feels something odd, in her chest. Like her heart, flipping over unpleasantly.

Edelgard continues speaking. “I worry that maybe…” she pauses, and starts again, “maybe you regret the ways things have turned out.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe if you had chosen differently, you’d be much happier than you are now.”

“It’s unlike you to doubt these things, El.” Byleth takes another step forward, places a hand gently on Edelgard’s shoulder. Edelgard crosses her arms, hugging herself. She keeps looking away, an almost bitter smile on her face.

“Yes. It is unlike me to doubt. But this is you, By.” Edelgard turns to look at Byleth. Her eyes were glossy. “I sometimes wonder if you ever regret the choices you made.”

Something lurches within Byleth. Something unhappy. Something painful. She frowns. Cups Edelgard’s face with both of her calloused hands.

“Do you think that I am unhappy?”

“… no?”

“That is correct. I am very happy.”

Edelgard stares up at Byleth. She seems to search for the words that she wants to say. Byleth waits patiently.

“Am I a good wife to you?” Edelgard finally says.

“You are,” Byleth says, firmly. “Why do you think I’m still so shocked that we had somehow gotten married?”

Edelgard looks at Byleth, hopefully, as if looking for more. Byleth thinks about ships again, ships finding safety, guided by the constant light of the lighthouse.

“You make me feel safe,” Byleth says.

A small, small smile takes root on Edelgard’s lips. She reaches up, and gently touches Byleth’s hands. “Safe,” says Edelgard. The word seems heavy, spilling out of the emperor’s lips. “You know, there are times that I still find it so hard to believe that you chose me.”

Byleth feels it. Words. Bubbling at the pit of her stomach. So many, many words. So many, many feelings. All the things she wants to say. All the things she should say. Byleth steels herself. The words are burning, warm, swirling around and around inside her. She opens her mouth to speak, her voice calm, her voice resolute.

“I chose you. In every step, and every day, I chose you. I chose you then, way back when we were younger and reckless, and I chose you again at the goddess tower. And here, now, I choose you again. I choose you for everything that you are. Everything that you were. Everything that you will be. I will promise to choose you for every day of my life, in my dreams and in my waking days. Always. Always, you, El.”

Edelgard tries to speak, but her voice breaks. Small tears run down her cheeks. Byleth wipes them away with her thumbs.

“You will be safe with me By,” Edelgard manages, “forever and always. I will be your safe harbor, forever and always.”

At the back of Byleth’s mind, she imagines a ship, safe at last. She never wants to leave again, she thinks. She’s home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end. Thank you all for the many nice comments. They all really made my day! I have a lot of ideas for things I want to write, so hopefully I get those ideas out soon. Stay safe, everyone. :)

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I last wrote. I also picked up this new fandom. Fun fact, Edelgard ruined this game for me because I am now physically incapable of going down any of the other routes. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing this. Will update soon. :)


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